This is a play-by-play after my leap off of Webb Hill in St. George, Utah. It’s a compilation of posts by my mother and boyfriend on social media from the day after my suicide attempt until my first week home from the hospital 3 months later.
Loved ones suffer alongside the survivors of trauma and abuse and in some ways can be co-victims. Often, parents are innocent bystanders who feel powerless to help or even understand their struggling child.
My summary does not tell the whole story, but it tells a part of the story the medical community is not equipped to explain.
Faith is feeling abandoned, but reaching up anyway.
When the dark side arranges the unimaginable against the most innocent, the mind wipe and compartmentalization of the event become a harsh but necessary blessing.
It may require new training to feel comfortable and at home with a quiet, peaceful mind.